Gwenhwyfar_ The White Spirit - Mercedes Lackey [145]
That was a risk she would have to take. Annwn was a dangerous place for mortals, and the Water Horses were not often known for having kindly natures. There was no telling what else she might meet there, either.
But she thought she could probably keep herself safe as long as she kept her wits about her. At this point—yes, Annwn was much to be preferred over being in Medraut’s hands.
The goats pushed on, and she held her aching side and ran with them. Wherever they were going, one thing was sure. It was away from Medraut.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The goats finally stopped in the last blue glow of twilight at the edge of a lake—stopped and then plunged in. They didn’t stop, either—nor did they swim. They ducked beneath the still, cool surface with hardly a splash at all and didn’t emerge again. Gwen found herself quite alone except for a fluttering in the reeds of birds, and the distant mutter of ducks.
Gwen was not at all surprised at their sudden abandonment. Exhausted, yes, but not surprised. The Ceffyl Dwr, like all the Folk of Annwn, were fickle and quite easily lost interest in the plight of mortals. It was wiser, when you got aid from them, not to count too much on it and never to expect anything further.
So here she was, on the edge of a lake with nothing more than the clothing on her back, the ax, and the contents of her bucket. In the dark, hungry, and with a raging thirst.
All right. Things were not so bad.
Though she was hungry, she had been eating well in captivity; a few days without food would do her no harm, and a single night was negligible. She had water right here at her feet. She could find some place to hide in order to sleep, even in the dark, and if the moon came up, well, all the better. The important thing was that she was free, and the Water Horses had made sure that Medraut would have a wretched time trying to track her. Even though he had hair of hers to do so magically, being so muddled up with the Water Horse magic might well be enough to throw him off the “scent” there, too, for a while.
While she could still see, she bundled the knife in the leftover strips of toweling, then got herself a bucket full of water. The dipper made a fine cup, and she drank until she was sated, then sat down and waited to see what sort of moon would rise.
To her great joy, it was full; the sight of the pale orb lifting slowly above the trees made her breathe a sigh of intense relief. She would easily be able to see now, to get into what was probably the single safest place to sleep unless she found an old den to hide in—tied into the crotch of a tree as far above the ground as she could manage.
The light painted a swath of silver across the lake, and touched the wisps of mist that were just beginning to rise from the waters. In the morning, well, there were a lot of things that she could do to find food. There were edible roots, and if she could manage to make a line, she could certainly fish. The ax was a comfort to have, but it was the sharp little knife that was going to make all the difference to her survival.
She gathered up her things and began to prowl the lake shore, and within moments she found exactly what she needed: an ancient tree, uprooted by a winter storm, lying half in, half out of the water. She explored the trunk, pulling brush that had piled up against it aside, and uncovered a hollow beneath it full of dead leaves blown in by the winds that was just big enough to hold her. She shoved her possessions in as far as they would go and crawled in after, pulling the brush back across the opening. The leaves crackled and gave off a slightly bitter smell, which should further serve to mask her scent.
It appeared that the Water Horses hadn’t “abandoned” her after all, since this shelter was no more than fifty paces from where they had left her on the shore.
For the first time since she had stormed into Arthur’s chambers, she smiled. Triumph tempered with caution made her spirits rise. She had done it; she had escaped, and although she’d had some help in getting away